


dressed to impress

by multifanwho



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F, One Shot, Short One Shot, Smut, The Author Regrets Nothing, a little bit of hurt/comfort, listen I'm a mess, me: i'm gonna write more g rated fics. also me: WHOOPS, post s12ep4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:01:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22335232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/multifanwho/pseuds/multifanwho
Summary: Yaz notices the Doctor's attentions shifting to her throughout their stint in Guilded Age New York and decides to question her about it.(This work has nothing to do with the actresses that portray these characters on screen, this is based off of descriptions of the characters alone. The actresses are real people with real lives and families that are just doing their jobs, please remember to stay respectful)
Relationships: Thasmin - Relationship, Thirteen/Yaz, Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 7
Kudos: 112





	dressed to impress

**Author's Note:**

> SPOILERS FOR DOCTOR WHO SERIES 12 EPISODE 4

There are many things Yaz wants to tell the Doctor right now, as she paces behind her circling the control panel. Don’t think I didn’t hear what you said to the Skithra. Why did you torment her. You killed her with no remorse. I know you’re hurting, why won’t you tell me why. You can do whatever you want to me to get it out of your system. But none of those fit the energy in the air tonight between them. 

“Did you really mean what you said? About me being important.” Yaz asks when the Doctor settles herself by a panel to tinker with. 

“‘Course I did. You all are.” The Doctor reassures her without so much as raising her eyes off of the panel. Curious as to how far Yaz could push her tonight for some answers, Yaz continues her questioning. 

“But me especially right?” Yaz tests the waters and the Doctor’s hands still- only for a split second, but they come to a stop. Proving Yaz’s theory that words can affect the blonde more than touch.

“You have your qualities.” The Doctor says, gulping after she finishes speaking. 

“Like what?” 

“What are you trying to achieve here Yaz?” The Doctor straightens out her posture and does that power stance that’s meant to be intimidating. Except its effect on Yaz wore off weeks ago and instead of creating a distance between them Yaz uses it as an invitation to step closer. 

“I’m trying to get you to admit you find me attractive dressed up like this. You find me sexy.” Yaz says. The Doctor stays as solid as a brick wall. So naturally Yaz takes another step forward and tries again to break down that wavering wall of defences. “You didn’t see me get into this getup but I bet you’d like to help me out of it.” 

A thrilling shock of adrenaline rushes through every cell in her body as she says it. All the brewing tension between them coming to the surface and Yaz doesn’t know where to go next with the Doctor’s eyes flicking up and down her body. She hadn’t planned to get this far but now there isn’t any turning back.

"You're teasing me." The Doctor says. But something in her eyes hints to Yaz she doesn't quite believe her own words.

"I'm not teasing you, Doctor." She leans further into the Time Lord's body; so close that her next words scrape across the Doctor's lips and the thrum of two hearts hitting against Yaz's own chest. Onetwothreefour. Onetwothreefour. Onetwothreefour. "I'm allowing you." She whispers and feels the Doctor's body spark alight with hitched breathing. _Onetwothreefouronetwothreefouronetwothreefour._ Yaz smirks. "Don't think I didn't see you looking."

“I- I didn’t want- if you were uncomfortable- I didn’t want to- staring isn’t polite and- I haven’t- not in a ages- I don’t know if I can still- you’re so- oh forget the excuses.” 

All it takes is Yaz opening up the front of her jacket a fraction for the Doctor to take her hips in a firm grasp and her lips between her own. Yaz thinks she might stop, give her a chance to breathe or pause to say she’s made a mistake but she doesn’t. The Doctor’s relentless in her actions, tugging on Yaz’s lips, moving like they’ve done this for years and Yaz can’t believe how quickly her body is reacting to it nor how easily she can make the Doctor react. Her hands are everywhere at once groping at flesh under fabric, causing Yaz to lose her grip on the control she’s realising she never had in the first place. Yaz’s hat disappears from her head and her jacket gets shuffled off her body without her even noticing until the small of her back feels the cold of the console against it, making her gasp and breaking apart their lips.

“I’m sorry-”

“Keep touching me.” Yaz doesn’t like to admit that it’s a beg or a plead but the Doctor has unhinged her composure just from a kiss.

The Doctor’s tongue slips easily, too easily past her bottom lip as the pair of them groan. Yaz can feel herself melting with the epicenter of the inferno being between her legs; letting the Doctor stroke her, taste her, feel her, make her tingle until she forgets where she is.

“Turn around.” The Doctor almost snarls her instruction and Yaz finds herself so turned on she has to remind herself to breathe. 

With her back to the Doctor it’s harder to read her and all Yaz can do is go by touch. Hands running up and down her legs as if she’s being patted down then moving to drag fingertips up the innards of her thighs, spreading her legs so the Doctor can stand between them. Hands move to outline her waist, her back, her spine all while the Doctor ruts and thrusts her hips against her backside which doesn’t create any kind of friction or relief to either of them at all but it must be an old habit from an old lifetime. 

“Ryan and Graham.” Yaz says, the feeling that they're going to be walked in on any second.

“Corridor’s blocked off.” The Doctor flutters kisses along Yaz’s jawline between every word. Yaz can’t stop her body arching as a hand lingers on her lower stomach. “Gonna be good for me?”

Yaz laughs. “You know this might not actually be about the outfit I think you just like me when I’m not asking questions. Behaving like a subservient lover like women should.”

Yaz gets spun around again- all contact removed except a cold hard glare meeting her eyes.

“You really think that?” The Doctor asks quietly. “I might be old but I’m not that old fashioned.”

“No.” Yaz shakes her head honestly. “But I know you’re hiding somethi-” 

She can’t finish her sentence. She can’t breathe, she can’t focus on anything other than the Doctor’s hand cradling her core through her trousers.

“Act now, questions later.” The Doctor grunts as she starts massaging into the fabric. “You know you’ve already soaked through your underwear right?” 

Yaz whines helplessly both at the words and the firm feeling of fingers palming against her clit. She won’t last long, she knows she isn’t going to the second the Doctor touches her properly and she can see the Doctor wants it too from the black lust in her eyes. If there’s one thing Yaz has learnt about her for sure is that she can’t hide anything from her eyes.

"D-Doctor… please." Yaz begs for her to get on with it so she can have her turn. 

"I like you in these clothes, why would I take you out of them?" The Doctor, the most smug Yaz has ever seen her, hides her face so it can’t be read once again but this time by nipping and sucking on Yaz’s neck. Or at least what's accessible of it thanks to the rather large collar on her shirt.

Yaz’s knees almost give way, the hand between her legs and her back against the TARDIS console being the only things keeping her upright. She wants to tug on the Doctor’s shirt, reciprocate a kiss, claw at her, feel her, taster her, anything but letting her just grope between her legs but she doesn’t trust her body to support itself if she removes her hands from the side of the console. She’s been gripping onto the metal for so long she’s almost certain she won’t be able to feel them even if she did. The only thing she can do to combat against the slow movements is roll her hips against the slender hand slowly driving her to torture and make sounds she knows the Doctor won’t be able to keep from going directly between her own legs. 

For another minute Yaz thinks her plan is going the wrong way and the Doctor is going to drag this out for as long as she wishes for her own pleasure but thankfully the pressure of her hand falls away, sliding down the middle of her waistline instead until warm fingers are slipping through burning wet folds. Yaz throws her head back as a reflex but if forced back by a strong hand on her cheek and a caring pair of eyes, all snark gone. Yaz knows she’s asking for permission so she connects their lips once more needing to feel that buzz again that shoots through her every time their lips touch. As they kiss and the Doctor rolls against her a digit slides into Yaz so simply and easily Yaz thinks she’s ascended. It’s not until another finger joins and the Doctor’s thumb rest against her ball of nerves and starts thrusting and curling her fingers inside her at just the right spots that she actually does reach another level of existence. The Doctor still chases her mouth but Yaz can’t get her lips to work or close for more than a second before moaning into the Doctor’s mouth. The entire situation is erotic in every sense of the word and Yaz can’t think it can get any better until-

“You ready?” The Doctor mumbles against hot flushed cheeks. “I’ve thought about this for almost two days now.” 

Before Yaz can ask exactly what to be ready for she gets distracted by the Doctor removing her hand completely, leaving Yaz teetering on the edge of finishing herself since she can’t hold out much longer but the sound of fabric ripping stops her. She looks down to see two hands, one dry one slick and glistening under the lights of the control room, that have ripped the clip opening further open. The hands- _the Doctor’s hands,_ she keeps having to remind herself- pull rightfully sodden underwear out of the way. Adding up all the evidence it clicks for Yaz and if feeling her walls flutter wasn’t enough the Doctor’s smile before her head goes south is definitely enough to set her on the edge of anticipation. 

Two flat laps through her heat then several concentrated circles around her clit foces Yaz to grip onto the Doctor’s head like a lifeline; the puffy sleeves of her blouse rustling in her ears drowning out the sounds of euphoria spilling from her lips.The Doctor keeps delivering the sensation with her mouth until Yaz is near overstimulation and has to push her away by the forehead. Eyes still screwed shut and seeing stars, Yaz only knows the Doctor is in proximity again because she can feel the beat of her hearts again. _Onetwothreefouronetwothreefouronetwothreefouronetwothreefouronetwothefouronetwothreefouronetwothreefour_ blending in with the simple _onetwonetwoonetwoonetwo_ of her own ringing in her ears. 

The Doctor kisses her again, letting her taste herself on her tongue. She wonders what the Doctor tastes like or if the Doctor will ever let her go down on her like that. Yaz lets her eyes open slowly drawing her out of one moment into the next and the next thing she wonders is if the Doctor will let her touch her at all since her own hand is already down the front of her trousers with her hips rocking against it. 

“Hey, that’s not fair!” Yaz grabs hold of the Doctor’s forearm and stuns herself by feeling her hard her muscles are working. There’s no chance she can remove it by force so instead she goes for coaxing her into letting her take over by unclipping her braces, removing all clothing on her bottom half so it crumples around her ankles all while stroking and sucking on the Doctor’s pulse point on her neck. 

“Uhnyaz.” The Doctor mumbles as Yaz’s hand covers the Doctor’s taking the role of leader setting a much slower pace. 

“Let me take care of you.” Yaz whispers and the barrier between Yaz’s hand and the Doctor’s wet heat is removed. 

Yaz sighs with a smile painted on her lips as she fumbles around to find the Doctor’s clit. A sharp gasp that goes straight to the pit of Yaz’s stomach when she hears it tumbles out of the Doctor’s parted lips indicates she’s found it. Yaz indulges in gently pushing her fingers inside the Doctor to wet them, feeling her contract around them as she does.

“Ah! Stars that’s...that’s new.” The Doctor hits her head against Yaz’s forehead 

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No! Just don’t… don’t go- dont-”

“No penetration?” Yaz asks. The Doctor nods, biting her lip.

“Yeah. For now. Maybe next time.” 

_Maybe next time_ is what Yaz clings on to. The Doctor is insinuating this isn’t going to be the only time they do this together. The idea motivates her to make herself irresistible to the time lord; she wants to leave an imprint of herself on her extensive memory bank forever that will last regeneration after regeneration. She alternates the pressure of her fingers and how she rubs, listening to how the Doctor moans and groans and gasps into her ear to pick out the ways she likes it most. 

The Doctor comes silently- which is a surprise for Yaz- but trembling, needing to hold onto Yaz to stop herself collapsing to the floor, chin resting on her shoulder and soft moans being whispered into Yaz’s ear. 

While she’s out of it and not looking, Yaz brings her fingers to her mouth but then stops. She knows she wants to taste the Doctor- reveal another one of her secrets- but something stops her. The panting in her ear has turned into soft whimpering and she can swear a drop of hot liquid has fallen into the crook of her neck.

“Doctor? Doctor are you alright? Did I do something- did I step over the line?” 

The Doctor’s grasp around her tightens and Yaz officially classifies it as a hug. There’s a different kind of butterflies in her stomach now. A scared kind. 

“What is it?” Yaz asks softly, trying to avoid the voice she’s been trained to use in sensitivity programmes for work because the Doctor will see right through that without a doubt. 

“They’re all gone.” The Doctor mutters into her skin. 

“Doctor-”

“Just give me a minute and I’ll explain. I promise.” 

Yaz holds onto the fragile and vulnerable body in her arms for twenty seven of those minutes. She lets her sob, cry, be weak and not have to hold herself together for the sake of everybody else until she’s finally ready to explain. 

And she explains everything till morning.


End file.
